Farage claims he 'wasn't listening' as donations scandal engulfs Reform conference

Nigel Farage stood at the podium on the final day of his party's conference in Birmingham on Saturday, trying to steer the conversation toward tax policy and away from the wreckage of the previous forty-eight hours. But the donations scandal had already claimed two of his closest lieutenants and was now circling him directly. When pressed by journalists about a recorded meeting that sat at the heart of the controversy, Farage offered a simple defense: he wasn't paying attention.

The trouble began when undercover reporters from an organization called Verbatim posed as a potential donor and his wealthy American father. They filmed conversations with Dan Jukes, Farage's close aide, and James Orr, Reform's head of policy, in which the two men appeared to discuss ways around Britain's electoral law prohibiting foreign donations. The scheme was straightforward enough: the American father would send money to his son in the UK, who would then pose as the official donor. The money in question—£30,000—had already funded polling work that benefited Reform when the results were published in national newspapers. On Friday, Farage suspended both men.

But there was another recording, one that caught Farage himself. In it, after being told about the arrangement by the undercover reporter posing as the UK-based son, Farage said the plan was "all above board." The reporter had laid out the scheme plainly: "I'll be the registered donor. But then dad will send the money to me, and then as soon as that's done and all those conversations are had the money is available." Farage's response suggested he understood and approved.

When BBC interviewer Laura Kuenssberg confronted him with this recording on Saturday morning, Farage's explanation was that he had been distracted. He was in the middle of campaigning for the Clacton byelection, he said, and simply wasn't listening closely. He added that he had been told the money was coming through a UK-based family office, which he suggested could legally receive funds from anywhere in the world—Singapore, America, anywhere. "I am not a compliance officer," he told Kuenssberg. "I frankly wasn't even listening." He then claimed expertise he hadn't previously mentioned: "I know electoral law. I know donation law better than anybody."

The Met police were now assessing evidence after receiving a complaint that Farage, Jukes, and Orr may have broken political funding laws. All three denied wrongdoing. Meanwhile, Farage's party tried to move forward. Robert Jenrick, Reform's Treasury spokesperson, delivered a keynote speech pledging to raise the tax-free personal allowance to £15,000 within the first hundred days of government, up from the current £12,570. But even Jenrick found himself forced to address the donations mess in separate interviews. He told GB News the matter had been "dealt with" and that the two suspended men had "gone." In an interview with Times Radio, however, he said they had been "permanently suspended," a harder line than the party's official statement that they had "stepped down pending outcome of an investigation"—language that suggested a possible path back.

Farage, for his part, blamed the establishment for orchestrating the scandal. "It will go on," he told ITV's Robert Peston. "You come back and see me in six months, there'll be five more investigations. It won't end." He acknowledged having had "thoughtful" moments over the summer, saying his family had been pressing him to leave politics. Yet he remained at the helm as the conference drew to a close.

The final day was marked by other disruptions. Climate activists had been removed from the conference hall on Friday while heckling Farage's speech, and West Midlands police were now investigating an incident in which a protester appeared to have been assaulted by audience members as she was being carried out. The activist group Climate Resistance, which organized the protest, said the woman was considering whether to report the incident to police. Nadine Dorries, a former Conservative MP now with Reform, defended the party's response, calling the protest "an organised sting" and noting that sensitivities were heightened following the killing of Reform spokesperson Ann Widdecombe in July.

As Farage addressed the main hall that evening, sections of seating sat empty and the atmosphere was subdued compared to earlier in the conference. "There would be good days and bad days," he told supporters. "Sometimes we will get things wrong and get a bit of a kicking, but what this conference has shown is that whatever you throw at the leadership, whatever you throw at you, the people's army, we immediately stop, pick ourselves up and start all over again." The words were meant to rally the faithful, but they came as multiple investigations loomed and the party's credibility remained under sustained pressure.